


The Kind of Ally I Could Have Been

by that_one_kid



Series: Away to Neverland: De-Aged Fics From All Fandoms (Eventually) [2]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Gen, Kid Fic, Mostly fluff but some plot in there to keep it interesting, Skinner is the only adult in this show, They're all good kids, but not in this fic, de-aged fic, fox needs a hug, kids being kids, maggie scully is the ultimate mom, melvin is the action man, therapy is important, your mom made spaghetti
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-05 20:30:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10316363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/that_one_kid/pseuds/that_one_kid
Summary: Skinner saw it coming, this time, but taking care of two brilliant children was hard enough. With the Lone Gunmen added in, he needs some help, so he calls in a few favors. The kids do what kids do - laugh, fight, make alliances, form crushes, run away, and have adventures. The adults do what adults do - worry.





	1. Away to Neverland

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning: Kids in potentially harmful situations, kids in emotional distress, mentions of child abductions, additional trigger warnings on additional chapters

She’d been having a normal day. It had been rather slow, but she’d forwarded the Assistant Director’s latest call and was brushing up on the current situation in Moscow when she heard a dull thud.

“Sir?” Arlene asked, her voice sharp as she pulled the door open. The Assistant Director was staring at a ragged hole in his office wall. It passed through the wooden paneling and into the drywall behind it. Arlene slowly raised one eyebrow, and looked down at AD Skinner’s hand. Three of the knuckles were bleeding. He had the good grace to look embarrassed. 

“Sorry, Arlene,” he said, quickly moving to wrap his hand in his handkerchief to keep the blood from dripping onto the carpet. “I just got the call. Agents Scully and Mulder, as well as all three Lone Gunmen, just missed their last check-in.”

“And that meant that you had to break the wall? Sir?” Arlene said with a sigh, retrieving the first aid kit that Skinner kept in his office and pulling out the disinfectant.

“It means that despite their assurances to the contrary, they’ve been affected by that damn house again,” Skinner said, as he took the first aid kit back and wrapped up his hand. “Thanks. Could you book me a flight to Colorado?” 

“Yes, sir.” Arlene said, walking back out to her portion of the office. She scribbled on a notepad “Get someone to fix wall,” and started making calls. 

~ ~ ~

“This should be interesting.” Skinner said, staring at the old town home in front of him. If the X-Files were to be believed (and they usually were), this house was perfectly harmless and innocuous, fully stocked with food, clean sheets, clothes in varying sizes, and hot water at all times despite never having an owner or anyone paying the bills. No one had been seen entering or leaving the house besides the investigating agents, who’d been called in after reports of “unusual activity,” Skinner walked up to the front door, looked around, and knocked. There was no response, so after a moment he tried the handle. The door was unlocked. Skinner took a few cautious steps inside, and heard a yelp and then a shushing noise coming from the den. He took a few more steps and reached for the light switch. Something behind him moved, and he spun around, just in time for something heavy to knock him to the ground. A second later, he felt cold metal press against his throat, and he stopped struggling. 

“I’m here to help,” he choked out, and the object on his throat lifted slightly, allowing him to breathe normally. Whoever his assailant was, they were small and strong. They’d pinned him, and gone for the throat, although they hadn’t taken his gun. Inexperienced, then. 

“Who are you?” the mysterious assailant asked, his voice cracking, and Skinner rapidly reevaluated his assumptions. Not just small, but young. Whoever this was, they couldn’t have been older than fifteen or sixteen. 

“I’m an FBI agent. My badge is in my jacket pocket.” Skinner said, and lay quietly as the boy rummaged through his coat. Then, with a cough and a faint shuffling, Skinner was released. He stood, rubbed his aching ribcage where he’d hit the wooden floor, and flipped on the lights. A teenager stood in front of him, holding a poker in one hand. He stared at Walter with a fierce, semi-panicked expression. 

“Did the police send you? Where’s the person who kidnapped us?” he said, lifting the poker menacingly. Skinner scanned the boy, who was wearing a leather jacket, jeans, and combat boots, and took a wild guess. 

“Are you Frohike? Melvin Frohike?” he asked, using his most authoritative voice. 

“Yeah, that’s me.” Frohike responded, still eyeing him suspiciously. 

“Where are the others?” 

“What others?” he responded quickly, his knuckles going white on the poker. 

“Melvin. I know you’re just trying to protect them, but they’ll be safer when they’re with the police or the FBI than when they’re here,” There was a long pause, and then Melvin dipped his head in resignation. 

“They’re in the den.” Skinner nodded, holding out his hand for his badge. Melvin returned it, and started locking the door. Skinner moved past him, opening the door to the den and striding through. He heard a high scream, and then a child lunged at him, kicking and scratching at his legs. He yelped, trying to push the child away. Then there was a thud, then Melvin burst through the doorway behind him. 

“Dana, it’s alright! He’s with the police!” he said, pulling the young girl away from Skinner by her upper arm. 

“What?” Dana asked, panting. “Are you sure?” 

“He showed me his badge.” Melvin said, reluctantly.

“He looks like a policeman.” a five-year-old boy said, standing up from behind the couch. “He looks nice. We’re not supposed to be afraid of policemen.” 

“Are you Fox Mulder?” Skinner asked him. The boy looked at him like he’d asked what color the sky was. 

“No. I’m Johnny. Johnny Byers.” He reached behind the couch beside him and pulled another, younger boy up to stand next to him. “This is Ringo.” 

“Hi.” Ringo said, quietly. 

“Where’s Fox?” Skinner asked, rubbing his forehead. 

“He doesn’t like policemen.” Dana explained. “Do you have some normal clothes I can wear?” Skinner looked down at her. She was wearing black pants and a button-up shirt with rolled up sleeves. She was also barefoot. 

“Um, Dana?” Skinner said, kneeling down next to her. “It’s very important that we find Fox first. I want to make sure that he’s okay, too.” 

“Okay. I’ll take you to him.” she said, cheerfully. She took his hand in hers and led him towards another door.

“Frohi- Melvin?” Skinner called back over his shoulder. “Watch the boys?” 

“Sure. We get along fine.” Melvin said. “What if someone else comes back, though?” Skinner stopped Dana for a moment. 

“They won’t. Don’t worry.” he said, and then let Dana pull him through the doorway. 

Dana led Skinner on a winding tour of the house, finally ending in a ladder up to the attic. She pointed upwards at the trap door. 

“He’s up there. He’s very strange,” she said, the two blending together like they related. 

“Why is that?” Skinner asked, climbing up the ladder and fumbling with the trapdoor. 

“He thinks we were taken away by aliens. He kept checking his watch even though it was broken and it had a Mickey Mouse on it.” 

“One second, Dana,” Skinner said, and eased open the trapdoor. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he mentally prepared himself for yet another attack. To his surprise, none came. The faint sound of sobbing reached his ears. He clambered fully up the ladder, looking around the attic. In the corner, a dark figure was huddled, shaking with sobs. 

“Fox?” Skinner called, softly. “Are you alright?” 

“I didn’t think it would be so nice,” came the soft reply. “I was so worried about her.” 

“About who?” Skinner asked, but he had a sinking feeling that he knew the answer. 

“Sam.” Fox choked, and started crying. “But she’s not here either. Is there another place like this where you take us?” 

“Fox,” Skinner started, and then stopped. After a second, he started again. “Come downstairs. It’s not safe up here.” 

“Okay.” Fox whispered, and he crawled towards Skinner. They clambered down the ladder to where Dana was waiting, eyes wide with curiosity. 

“Can I go up next?” she asked. Fox sneezed, and dust exploded from his clothes. Dana laughed, and patted his back. Then she saw his tear-streaked face, and she frowned. 

“Are you okay?” she asked, putting her hand back on his shoulder. Fox pulled away, brushing at his cheeks angrily. 

“I’m fine.” he said, and stormed off towards the den. Dana looked at Skinner. She was older than the younger boys, Skinner decided, but younger than Frohike. She was probably about ten, although god knows he’s not an expert at this sort of thing. He mentally decided to ask them all to say their names and ages at some point. “C’mon, Dana.” he said, with a sigh. “Let’s go meet up with the boys.”

~ ~ ~

After a hassle-filled thirty minutes of preparing food (Ringo wouldn’t eat a sandwich with crusts, Johnny wouldn’t touch one without crusts, Fox was pouting in the bathroom, and Scully dropped a gallon of milk she was trying to pour by herself) Skinner finally got everyone assembled in the den, seated on the couches, and eating sandwiches with milk. He himself was eating the pile of rejected sandwiches. 

“All right. Now that we’re safe, and clean (he directed that at Mulder), and eating, let’s all introduce ourselves. I’m Assistant Director Walter Skinner, with the FBI.” 

“You’re not a special agent?” Melvin asked, looking disappointed. 

“No, but sometimes I do field work like they do,” Skinner allowed. “Let’s go around in a circle. Say your name, how old you are, and how you’re feeling.” It wouldn’t pass for group therapy, but it was something to start from. 

“Johnny. I’m six. I feel happy because my sandwich has crusts now.” 

“Ringo.” A silence as he sat there, staring at the group. Johnny nudged him and whispered in his ear. “I’m five.” Another whisper. “I feel sad because my friend eats the crusts of his sandwiches.” Fox rolled his eyes. 

“I’m Fox. I’m thirteen. I feel... disappointed.” he said. He did not elaborate, but Skinner hadn’t expected him to. 

“I’m Dana. I’m ten. I feel confused.” Dana chimed in, talking over the awkward pause. “And I don’t like these clothes. But I found some better ones upstairs so I’m going to wear them after I finish my PB&J.” 

The group looked expectantly at Melvin, who crossed his arms. 

“Nope.” Skinner looked at him, and he gazed steadily back. “You can’t make me share my feelings, G-man.”

“This is Melvin.” Johnny chimed in from across the circle. Melvin shot him a glare. “He’s fifteen.” 

“That’s enough, half-pint.” Melvin growled, but without the force he’d shown when confronting Skinner. 

“He feels angry.” Fox said, with a smirk. “Because his buddy ratted him out.” Dana slammed her plate down and raced off. “... was it something I said?” Fox asked, after a moment. 

“No.” Skinner said with a sigh. “She finished her sandwich. She went to change. Does anyone else want different clothes?” Johnny looked down. He was in a full suit, with a clip-on kid’s tie. 

“No. I like this. What about you, Ringo?” Ringo was wearing a t-shirt with Pacman on it, jeans, and sneakers. He shook his head. Fox glanced down at his dust-covered formal shirt and trousers and scoffed. Then he headed for the stairs, just as Dana came bouncing down them. She was now wearing carpenter jeans, a polo shirt, and a cowboy hat that fit her head perfectly. She was still barefoot. 

“I found a hat!” she crowed, and jumped over the back of the couch to land on the seat next to Melvin. “I like your jacket,” she told him, seriously. Melvin smiled, and tugged at his lapels. “But your hair looks silly with all that shiny stuff in it.” Melvin gave her a look, then grabbed for her hat. Laughing, she defended it, and they toppled to the ground, wrestling. Johnny looked to Skinner with wide eyes and Ringo laughed out loud. Skinner, on the other hand, just sighed. 

“I’m going to need some help.” he said, under his breath. He took out his phone, flipped it open, and paused. “Doggett or Reyes?” he mumbled, and dialed a number. 

~ ~ ~ 

“ I can’t believe this.” Doggett said, rubbing his eyes. 

“I know. But after some time on the X-Files, I’m sure you can-”

“No. I literally cannot believe this.” Doggett said, gesturing weakly to where Melvin was sprawled on the floor watching cartoons, with Ringo and Dana fighting for the remote over his back. “This is Agent Scully?” 

“Not so loud,” Skinner hissed, shooting a look at the kids, who hadn’t looked away from the TV screen. “They don’t have any memories from after 1974. And we are not complicating this matter by bringing the X-Files into this. You know how they all get as adults? They’re worse as children.” 

“That… What? How did this happen?” Doggett asked again, still staring into the other room.

“That’s it. I’m calling Reyes.” Skinner growled, and pulled out his phone. He dialed, checked the den again, and put the phone up to his ear. 

“Hello? It’s Skinner. I have an assignment for you. Yes. Good, you’ve received the details? All right. I’ll see you when you get here.” He closed the phone, and turned back to Doggett. “Close your mouth before you start catching flies.” Skinner grumbled, and walked into the den. 

“All right, kids. It’s getting late, and you all know what that means.” 

“Time to head out?” Melvin asked.

“Time for bed!” Dana and Johnny said in unison.

“Time for some answers.” Fox added, his tone sharp. Ringo was quiet, tapping away at the keyboard of some electronic device. 

“Time for bed.” Skinner said, shaking his head. “It’s too late to head anywhere tonight. Who’s sleeping where?” 

“I want the big bed upstairs,” Dana said, standing excitedly. 

“I want the other bed upstairs.” Fox quickly interjected. 

“I guess we’ll take the couches down here,” Melvin said, pushing Johnny towards the couch nearest him. “Here you go, half-pint. And the other one’s for you,” he said, waving a hand in front of Ringo’s face. “Assuming you stop hacking long enough to sleep again.” 

“Hacking?” Walter asked, his voice sharp. “Hacking what? He’s five.” 

“Did I say hacking?” Melvin said, his tone supremely unconvincing. 

“All right. Fine. Everyone go to sleep.” Skinner said, heading to the closet. “I’ll grab out some sheets to make up the couches as beds. Is everyone ready for bed?” 

Skinner’s phone rang. He picked it up, answered tersely. The whole room was quiet, with everyone watching him on the phone with utter confusion. 

“Sir? Is that really necessary?” Skinner said, then “Yes, sir. Yes. Understood.” He hung up. 

“What’s the word?” Doggett asked, deadpan. 

“You’re to report back to DC immediately. And when Agent Reyes gets here, in about an hour, we’re to take the children to DC on the next available flight back.”

“Overnight?” 

“Apparently.” Skinner said, with a sigh. “Here’s to red eye flights.” 


	2. And This Little Piggy Drank Coffee All the Way Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kids are a pain. Skinner and Reyes give it their all but it's been a long week, ok?

“Sir? Tickets and passports?” the security woman repeated, her hand outstretched. Skinner, bleary-eyed, was turning out his pockets. He pulled out his FBI badge, three mints, and a drawing of a butterfly, before finally retrieving a set of tickets. He handed the woman the tickets and his badge, shoving everything else back into his pocket. 

“I’m transporting these unaccompanied minors back to DC as part of an ongoing investigation.” he said, wearily. “They don’t appear to have any current passports.” The woman gave him a long look, and then glanced behind him. Fox was bouncing impatiently on the heels of his feet. Monica Reyes was holding up her own FBI badge, and handing her passport to Skinner, an impressive feat given that she was balancing a sleeping Ringo on one arm. 

“Go ahead through,” the security guard said, after a second, and handed the tickets and Skinner’s badge back. “Red-eye flight, huh?” 

“Yep. Apparently it’s of the utmost importance that these kids get to DC tonight.” Reyes grumbled. She smiled sympathetically. 

“That’s gotta be a rough gig. FBI agents aren’t exactly trained to be babysitters, yeah?” 

“Tell me about it.” Skinner said, with a meaningful glance at Agent Reyes. “Thanks, ma’am. Have a good rest of your night.” They headed past the security terminal and into the DC airport main. 

“That was a long flight.” Johnny announced suddenly, tugging to pull his hand free from Melvin’s grip. “I gotta go to the bathroom.” 

“Me too,” Dana announced, and Fox rolled his eyes. 

“All right, let’s go. Dana, go with Monica. I’ll take…” Skinner looked across the other boys. “Actually, could you take Ringo too?” Monica nodded and headed off towards the women’s bathroom across the main terminal floor. Skinner pointed an anxious Johnny towards the men’s bathroom, and he took off running, dragging a reluctant Melvin along behind him. 

They met back up in the airport’s coffee shop, where both Skinner and Monica inhaled coffees. Skinner caught Melvin halfway through his order of a double-shot espresso, and confiscated the money he claimed Ringo had “acquired fully legally,” on the grounds of giving coffee to children was an irresponsible use of funds. They found a taxi that was also a minivan, and everyone climbed in. Monica sat in front, giving directions to the taxi driver. Melvin and Dana took the middle seats of the minivan, and Fox sat on one side of the backseat, helping Ringo settle into the other seat. That left the middle of the backseat to Skinner, who was balancing Johnny on his lap. 

“Did you know that our democracy is the best system in the world?” Johnny asked, earnestly, as the taxi pulled out of the airport.

“Who have you been listening too?” Fox scoffed, his voice tight. “We don’t have a democracy. We’re all just controlled by people who fear the truth.” 

“Nuh-uh.” Johnny protested, aiming a kick at Fox’s leg and then shrinking before Skinner’s glare. “My dad works for the government and he’s not afraid of  _ any _ body.”

“Sure he is. He’s afraid that we’ll find the truth, and that he won’t be able to deny it all anymore.” Fox said, his eyes gleaming. 

“No, you’re afraid.” Johnny grumbled. “Just because you think aliens are real and the government says they’re not, you think that the whole world is broken!” His voice had risen to a shout, and he’d climbed down from Skinner’s lap to kneel on the car seat by Fox’s side. 

“Johnny, calm down, please.” Skinner said, struggling to keep a suddenly awake and squirming Ringo in his seat. Melvin reached back for Johnny’s arm, but Johnny bit his hand and he withdrew it with a yelp and a glare. 

“You think the world is broken but it’s you. You’re broken.” Johnny said, tears welling in his eyes. “You make nice things sound bad and I don’t like you.” He started crying, and Fox turned away, looking out of the taxi’s window. 

“All right, Johnny.” Skinner said, his voice sharp. “Apologize to Fox.”

“I’m sorry,” Johnny said, immediately, his voice quavering. “I didn’t mean it.”  

“He knows you didn’t mean it, and that it’s been a very long night and we’re all tired.” Monica said from the front seat. “Right, Fox?” 

Fox was silent. The rest of the taxi ride was full of Dana asking the taxi driver questions about what it was like to drive people around and why did his voice sound different than hers and where India was and don’t they have tigers there and… Skinner nodded off in the backseat, and Monica woke him up when they’d arrived in DC. Wearily, they checked into the hotel, who was less than pleased by two grouchy FBI agents and five kids showing up at six in the morning. They all headed into the hotel room, collapsed onto beds and couches and cots, and fell asleep. Skinner stayed up for the first shift, with a hand on his gun and a weary eye on the door. This was going to be a long “until this wears off.” 

~ ~ ~

“Wake up wake up wake up!” Ringo said, suddenly and inexplicably released from his unwillingness to talk. Skinner rolled over with a sigh, and looked at Monica, who was sitting in the armchair watching the door. 

“I liked him better when he didn’t talk.” she said with a conspiratorial glance at Skinner, and Johnny stared at her with his mouth open. 

“That’s not nice!” he protested, and Monica stuck her tongue out at him. He crossed his eyes back. Melvin laughed, and caught Ringo with one arm as he tried to jump onto Skinner’s stomach.  

“The boys want breakfast.” Monica told Skinner, as serious as if she hadn’t just been trading faces with a six-year-old. 

“And me.” Dana piped up, but she looked pleased to have been included in “the boys,” Then Melvin dropped Ringo on Dana’s side of the bed. She tackled him, and they knocked all of the pillows and blankets off the bed in the resulting tussle. 

Skinner sat up, put on his glasses, and glanced around at the group. Reyes was almost as impeccable as ever, with her clothes slightly wrinkled from 48 hours of travel and consecutive wear. Melvin looked fairly unruffled in his leather jacket and jeans, although his short dark hair was spiked on end from sleeping on the plane. Fox and Dana looked presentable, although Fox’s face was streaked with old tears and Dana had somehow gotten dirt all over her hands. Ringo was only wearing pants, his shirt nowhere to be seen, and Johnny was still wearing a full suit. 

“Everyone washes their hands and faces and Ringo gets a shirt. Then, breakfast.” He declared, and the room burst into a flurry of activity. Once presentable and clean(er), they all headed downstairs for the free hotel breakfast. It was, simply put, a mess. Ringo set his waffle on fire in the waffle-maker, and while Skinner dealt with unplugging and cleaning the waffle maker Dana ate four doughnuts. Fox sat calmly eating a bowl of cereal, which he’d  made with orange juice instead of milk, in what Melvin claimed was a deliberate attempt to be weirder than him. Melvin himself claimed two cups of hot hotel coffee, and a bagel. Johnny made a jelly sandwich with Monica’s help, and then struggled to eat it without getting jelly on his suit. 

Eventually, with the room fairly free of both smoke and food, they left. Another van-taxi, without the drama this time, and the whole crew was at the FBI headquarters. The walk to the labs was a continuous battle to keep everyone from escaping the group and exploring, and then they were in the responsibilities of the lab techs for the next three hours. Doggett stopped by the XFiles office once during that time, and found Skinner and Monica both slumped asleep at the desks. He closed the door slowly and walked away without going in. 

~ ~ ~ 

“All right. Everyone listen up. Dana, your mother is here to pick you up. She’s offered to take in Mulder, too, since his parents couldn’t be here.” Skinner said, carefully, avoiding a direct lie but also dodging around the actual issue. “You three,” he pointed at Johnny, Ringo, and Melvin, “Didn’t have any family nearby that we could get in contact with, so you’ll be staying here with me and Monica. All right? Any questions?”

“Why isn’t my dad going to pick me up?” Johnny asked, his eyes wide. 

“Because right now, we need you all to stay in the area.” Skinner said, looking around for backup and finding none. “So, you’re going to stay with me.” Luckily, Johnny accepted this, and nodded. 

“All right. I’ll see you two in the morning.” he said to Dana and Mulder, as they headed off towards Maggie. “And you three, come with me. We’re heading home.” 


	3. Baa Baa Black Sheep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lone Gunmen have always been the black sheep of their families. But this time, they might be in over their heads.

“So, are there any secret sections of the FBI?” Melvin asked Skinner suddenly on the ride home one day. 

“No.” Skinner replied, evenly. “And even if they were, they’d be secret. So I wouldn’t tell you. Why do you ask?” 

“Well, I’m going to be an investigative journalist one day,” Melvin answered, without hesitation. 

“Where did you hear that?” Skinner said, sharply, and Melvin’s eyes narrowed. 

“What, you don’t approve?” he asked, his tone indicating his disdain for any opinions that did not support this. “I’ve wanted to be one since I was seven, you know. This isn’t just a sudden whim.” 

“I- no, of course. I was just surprised. It’s an unusual goal as a career.” Skinner said, relieved of his fear that the lab techs had been talking to the kids about their future selves. 

“I’m gonna be a career bureaucrat,” Johnny said, his tone excited although he was slumped in the backseat of Skinner’s car and they’d all thought he was asleep. 

“I’m going to be a famous computer programmer.” Ringo chimed in, without taking his eyes off of the cityscape outside of the windows. It had started to rain, a cold hard rain common to DC, and he was fascinated by the way the lights from the buildings and cars reflected on the wet roads. Skinner was less pleased, and had made the boys all fasten their seatbelts securely and promise not to squirm out from them this time. 

“We’re here.” Skinner said, pulling into the parking garage of his apartment. He unloaded the boys, who were calmer now that they’d had a chance to settle into the routine. Each morning they woke up and Skinner made breakfast. Then they headed to the FBI building, where Skinner went into his office and started work and the boys went to the lab, where they sat through experiments and took lessons from various FBI scientists. The theory behind that was that since they’d eventually re-age, they didn’t need to be in school, but seeing as the law didn’t agree, this passed for homeschooling in the meanwhile. Skinner was surprised, but not shocked, when none of the children had re-aged after the week it had taken Scully and Mulder to re-age (following the first incident). So, a week and a half in, he drove them home and started cooking dinner. 

“What’s for dinner, Walter?” Melvin asked, as he dropped his soaking backpack by the door. He’d taken to hauling books for all three boys back and forth, seeing as how Ringo “lost” his bag so that he could take double computer lessons and Johnny kept trying to bring lab stuff back out of the lab in his backpack to study at home. 

“I dunno. What do we have left?” Walter said, collapsing into his chair with a sigh. The cigarette-smoking man kept demanding to see the kids, and the constant threats against his career and his life when he refused took a toll, after all. 

“Mm. Mac and cheese. 3 cans of the chicken soup. And Johnny has his leftover pancakes.” Melvin said, perusing the cabinets. 

“All right. I’ll make mac n’ cheese for the three of us, and Johnny can have his pancakes. Then, bed.” 

~ ~ ~

“Melvin!” The hiss reached across the room, freezing Melvin in his tracks. He looked back across the dimly lit living room, where Johnny was standing up on the couch, looking panicked. “Why are you wearing a suit? And where are you going? It’s nighttime!” 

“Out.” Melvin said, vaguely. “Go back to sleep, Johnny, or you’ll get in trouble.” 

“If you don’t tell me where you’re going, I’ll start crying, and Skinner will come out and see that you’re gone and YOU’LL get in trouble.” Johnny said, looking smug. Melvin gave him a look. 

“When did you become the smart one?” he hissed. “Fine. I’m going to the FBI building.” 

“You can’t get in there. It’s closed for the night.” Johnny pointed out. 

“I’ve been checking the security when we go to the lab, and I think I’ve found a way past.”

“You’ll need help,” Ringo whispered, as he crept up behind him. “I can make the computers there shut down.” 

“I can be a lookout.” Johnny said, reluctantly. “But only because I don’t want you guys to get into trouble.” Melvin shook his head. 

“I’m not taking you two with me,” he said, resolutely. “It’s dangerous, and you’re just kids. Plus, Skinner would  _ KILL  _ me.”

“C’mon, Melvin.” Johnny said, looking down at his feet. “Don’t you know what it’s like to want to be respected, even as a kid?” Melvin wavered, looking at the other’s pleading faces. 

“I have to practice my computer skills before I become a billionaire and start my own company.” Ringo pointed out, seriously. 

“C’mon, Melvin. If you leave us here, we’ll just try to follow you and get caught anyways.” Johnny said, subtly kicking Ringo, who nodded. 

“Fine. But stay close, and if anything dangerous happens, you run away, okay?” Melvin said, finally. 

“Okay!” Ringo said, and the other two shushed him with a look at Skinner’s bedroom door. They crept out through the front door, which Melvin locked behind them with a single key that he slipped into his pocket. He walked the kids to Skinner’s car, which he unlocked and slid into the driver’s seat. 

“Seatbelts, you two.” he said, checking his mirrors and starting the car. He drove a little too quickly through the late-night city, playing a classic 60’s rock channel loud enough that Johnny complained and taking the corners suspiciously like someone who learned to drive in drag races. Eventually, they skidded to a stop in an alley just outside of the FBI building. 

“All right, here’s the plan.” Melvin said, looking into the backseat. “Ringo, do you see that internet coffee shop across the street? It’s closed right now, but you and Johnny are going to go in and use the computers there to shut down the FBI computers. Can you do that?” 

“Yeah, shouldn’t be a problem.” Ringo said, cracking his knuckles. “They showed me lots about their fancy city computers.” 

“Okay. Johnny, you’re his lookout, right? If you see anyone coming, like a policeman or a man in a suit, you grab him and you both run out the back door and back to the car.” He handed Johnny the car keys. “Meanwhile, I’ll break into the FBI building as soon as Ringo takes down their security. I’ll run through quickly, looking for anything suspicious, and grab any files that I find. If everything goes well, I’ll meet you back at the car. Everyone got it?” 

“Got it.” Ringo said, glancing up and down the dark street. 

“I understand.” Johnny said, nodding. 

“All right, let’s go.” Melvin said. He closed the car door behind him, and Johnny locked it. They ran across the street to the coffee shop, where Melvin knelt next to the door with a pocketknife. A second later, he opened the door with a soft tinkling of bells. Ringo shot past him, powering up one of the computers. Johnny walked in too, pausing to look backwards at Melvin. 

“Good luck.” he said, seriously, and Melvin gave him a nod. 

“You too, half pint,” he said, and closed the door. Johnny locked it behind him and started drawing the blinds. Ringo got through the loading screen, clicked through the log-in into a guest account, and started running code. 

“How long do you think it’ll take?” Johnny asked, and Ringo answered without stopping his furious typing. 

“For the FBI computers? Maybe ten minutes?” 

~ ~ ~

Melvin was leaning against the wall outside the FBI door and smoking a cigarette, his face hidden from the camera above the door. Despite him trying to conserve the smoke, it only lasted ten minutes, and he lit another one, rolling his eyes and checking his watch. 

“What kind of five-year-old could hack a government agency, anyways?” he grumbled under his breath. He leaned back against the wall, and let his mind drift to the possibilities of the kind of files he might find. Aliens. Cars that ran on water. What actually happened with Watergate. He dropped the second cigarette with a curse, having just burned his fingers, and looked up. The security camera was powered off. He moved quickly, now, prying open the keypad and crossing two likely-looking wires. The door clicked open, and he shouldered his way into the dark building, rushing through familiar hallways. He found the stairs, and rushed down to the basement, unsure of how long it would be before someone noticed the security had gone down. He dodged through stacks of boxes and found the room he was looking for, the room that spread the rumors he’d heard in the labs. X-files. He pulled open the first, likely looking drawer, but it contained a variety of random items, including a jar of glitter and a pie order form. Whoever this was, they kept a messy desk. Out of a kind of morbid curiosity, he paused to check the nameplate. “Fox Mulder.” That was a weird coincidence. Maybe Fox’s dad worked here, and he was really Fox Jr. 

“Hey, are the cameras down?” a shout came from outside, and Melvin froze, glancing around. The filing cabinet. He crept over to it, picking it’s simple lock and pulling open the first drawer. He grabbed as many files as he could easily carry, and started out of the door, hiding his face behind the files. He passed one person in the hallway, but between the suit and the files, he was apparently convincing enough. He made it back up the stairs, where there was starting to be chaos as the few agents in the building this late started realizing the computer and security systems were down. He made it halfway to the door when a voice from behind him called out. 

“You there, stay where you are.” He bolted, angry shouts erupting from behind him. He hit the front door, slamming it open, and ran to the car. It was empty. Melvin cursed, looked around for the boys. The front door of the internet cafe was open, and he felt a cold weight drop into his stomach. They were gone. 

~ ~ ~

Johnny was watching out of a crack in the blinds, the soft sound of a keyboard clacking behind him his only connection to the world. It was late, and this was a bad idea, but he was still glad he went with the other boys. Skinner had told him that he was the most grown-up of all of them, so he should keep an eye on them to keep them out of trouble. Ringo laughed, and then the sound of typing stopped. 

“Got it. All powered down.” he said, with a smirk. 

“How did you do it?” Johnny asked, with amazement. 

“When they were showing me the mainframe, I asked what a backdoor was, and Steve explained it by showing me a backdoor in the FBI mainframe. Then Skinner got really mad and that’s when Steve stopped teaching my computer classes.” Ringo said, and Johnny looked back at him with wide eyes. Someone tried the front door, and Johnny froze. He was supposed to be the lookout, but he’d let Ringo distract him. Now, they had to… had to… run out the back! 

“Let’s go,” he said, grabbing Ringo’s arm and dragging him towards the faint glow of the exit sign. They burst out of the emergency exit, leaving the fire alarm going off behind them. They were in an alley, and Johnny looked around, frantically. There were men in suits everywhere, and he didn’t see the car. 

“Stay still, and we won’t hurt you.” a voice said from behind them. Johnny didn’t like whoever was speaking. He sounded old and mean. He turned around slowly, and saw an old man smoking a cigarette. 

“What’s going to happen to us?” he asked, his voice smaller than he’d meant for it to be. 

“You’re going to come with us.” the man answered, gesturing at one of the men in suits. Johnny didn’t like the people grabbing his arms. He didn’t like it at all. He decided to let Ringo be the adult for a bit. 

~ ~ ~

The men in suits grabbed them and put them into a car, and the car drove a very short time, and then they were brought into the FBI building. The keypad was hanging off of the wall, and Ringo recognized Melvin’s handiwork. There were scratches on the wall, like he’d make using the knife he’d used to pick the lock at the place with the computers. Once inside, they saw lots and lots of agents there, mostly looking tired and ruffled, like they’d just woken up. They were all running around and shouting different things. The men who were holding them carried them to a different room, which was mostly empty except for a table and a mirror, and they locked them in. Johnny started to cry, and Ringo politely let him have the space under the table to do it in. He liked Johnny, but he didn’t want to cry with him, because he thought they needed to get out of the room. He didn’t have a computer, though, and he wasn’t very strong, at least not compared to his brothers. There was a noise, and he looked up. The grate in the ceiling moved, and then got pulled up and vanished. Melvin’s head, covered in dust and a spider, appeared in the gap. 

“There’s a spider on your head.” Ringo said, and Melvin’s head disappeared with a yelp. It reappeared a second later without the spider. 

“Where’s Johnny?” Melvin asked, looking around the room from his upside-down vantage point. 

“Under the table. I’ll get him.” Ringo said, and clambered down off of the table. “Johnny, come out, hurry. Melvin’s here.” Johnny crawled out, and they both climbed on the table to look at Melvin’s head. It slowly grew an arm, which reached down to where they were. 

“Someone grab my hand, and I’ll pull you up.” 

“You first,” Johnny said, and so Ringo grabbed onto Melvin’s hand. With a grunt, he hauled him up, squeezing him through the grate and pulling him close to himself. 

“All right,” Melvin panted. “Now crawl that way, so we have room for Johnny, too.” Ringo did as he was told, and a few moments later Johnny crawled into the air duct behind him. Melvin replaced the grate carefully, and they started to crawl along the air duct. There was a weird noise, and then the ceiling tile underneath Johnny and Ringo broke. With a loud shout, they fell from the ceiling and onto the old man who’d caught them the first time. Johnny looked at him, gave a wordless shout of fury, and squinched his eyes shut. Ringo, unhappy as well, kicked the man sharply in the shin. Then, Skinner swept forwards, picking them each up with one arm and moving back, away from the man who smoked. 

“Skinner.” the man said, threateningly. “Give me the children.” 

“They’re minors, who you found in a coffee shop. You have no right to hold them, especially not in an FBI holding cell. You are standing on loose ground.” Skinner said, his voice low and angrier than Ringo had thought he could ever be. “And if you push me on this,” he set Ringo and Johnny down, and pulled out his gun. They rushed to hide behind his legs. “I will shoot you and take these children to their legal guardians.” 

“You’d shoot me? In the middle of the FBI headquarters?” he said, sounding disdainful. “You can’t bluff me, Skinner.” 

“The security cameras are down.” Skinner said, holding his gun without his hands shaking at all. Ringo was impressed. “Who knows when they’ll come back up? Who knows what damage they’ll find from this mysterious intruder? Who he might have killed?” Johnny was looking at Skinner with wide, scared eyes, but Ringo thought it sounded like stories that his grandpa told him about the war. 

“You have no idea how difficult I can make life for you.” The old man said, but Skinner didn’t back down at all. Then, he slowly turned and left. 

“Where is Melvin? Did he leave you alone?” Skinner asked, angrily, and Melvin dropped out of the ceiling in front of him. 

“Sorry, I figured it wouldn’t help to have me around,” he said, panting and clenching his fists. “But I was gonna drop on his head if he tried anything, you bet.” 

“We’re leaving. Give me the keys.” Skinner said, and they marched out through the front doors in single file. As they got close to the car, Melvin subtly reached under the car’s chassis and pulled out a set of files, that he tucked into his jacket. 

“You’re all grounded.” Skinner said, as he got into the car. Melvin shoved the files into his backpack, in the backseat, and handed it to Johnny. 

“Yes, sir.” he said, making his face look different to pretend he was sad. Ringo was happy, though. They’d found the X Files. 


	4. Little Miss Muffet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tension between the teenagers escalates, and on an "unrelated note," Fox goes with Dana to therapy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings at the end of the chapter

_Little Miss Muffet_   


_Sat on a tuffet_

_Eating her curds and whey._

_Down came a spider_

_And sat down beside her_

_And frightened Miss Muffet away,_

_Away,_

_They frightened Miss Muffet away._

~ ~ ~

“What is it?” Dana said, and Ringo shushed her. 

“It’s a secret.” he said, smiling. Melvin took the file back from Dana and laid it on the ground. They were all assembled in Dana’s blanket fort, behind the couch. Melvin was sitting cross-legged on the ground, with Johnny draped across his legs. Next to him, Fox was flipping through a different folder, a strange look on his face. Dana and Ringo were jostling for seating space and fighting over yet another folder. 

“This one talks about aliens.” Melvin said, pulling out a bright red folder. He was flushed with excitement (and heat, the blanket fort was quite toasty, even for those not wearing a leather jacket and fingerless gloves), and his eyes shone with excitement. Johnny scrambled off of his lap and took the file, settling down to read it. 

“Let me have that.” Fox said, his voice sharp. Johnny jumped, and clutched onto it tighter. 

“No, it’s mine.” he said, looking down at his feet. Crossing any kind of authority figure was a serious breach of protocol in his eyes, but the X-Files were turning out to be a bad influence on him. 

“I can explain it to you. I’ve already read it.” Melvin said, and looked around claustrophobically at the fort walls. “Maggie’s upstairs, though, so I’m going to get out from under these blankets.” There were no complaints, and the group clambered out, mostly piling onto the couch. Melvin stood in front of the couch, story-time style, and Fox, also standing, leaned on the arm. 

“These files tell a daring story, of individuals who were taken against their will, by aliens. And the government knows all about it, and about what happens to them.” 

“What happens to them?” Dana asked, her eyes wide. “Do they get turned into aliens?” 

“Worse.” Melvin said, opening his arms expansively. “They-” Then Fox shouted something unintelligible, rushed forwards, and tackled him. Melvin slammed to the ground underneath the younger boy’s weight, caught off guard. Fox threw a punch from his seated position atop Melvin’s chest, catching him in the nose and jerking his head backwards.

“Fox, stop!” Dana screamed, her voice sharp and terrified. Melvin caught his next punch, which was weaker and off-center, and pushed Fox off of him. The younger kids were all standing on the couch, wide-eyed and horrified. Melvin spun Fox around in front of him, twisting an arm behind his back, and Johnny suddenly bolted, a streak across the living room and up the stairs. A few moments later, Maggie ran downstairs, pulling Melvin off of Fox and pulling the still-struggling Fox away.

“What on Earth happened?” she asked, looking at the files strewn around the room and the blood down Melvin’s shirt. Fox stopped struggling and began to cry softly. Melvin wiped the blood off of his face with the back of his hand and started picking up the strewn papers hurriedly, shoving them back into the folder they’d originated from. 

“It was a misunderstanding,” he said, eventually, stacking the filing folders and slipping them into the blanket fort. 

“No, it wasn’t,” Ringo said, unexpectedly. “Melvin was just telling us a story and then Fox went crazy and attacked him!” Fox took a few deep, shaky breaths, and shot a glare in his direction. 

“Let me see your face,” Maggie said, reaching for Melvin’s shoulder. He flinched away, and she pulled her hand back quickly. 

“It’s fine.” Melvin insisted, and she gave him a look. 

“It’s bleeding down your face and onto my white sofa.” she said, pointedly, and Melvin hastily pinched his nose shut. “So it’s clearly not fine. Let me see.” Reluctantly, he came forwards, and she tapped at it lightly. 

“I don’t think it’s broken.” she said. “You’ll probably be fine, but I’ll let Skinner know to take you to the doctor’s and see if you have a concussion.” She turned to Fox. 

“And what about you? Are you hurt?” Fox shook his head, not trusting his voice. 

“Melvin didn’t hit him back.” Dana explained, and then shrugged. “He just did that weird thing you saw where he put his arm behind his back.” 

“Is your shoulder all right, then?” Maggie asked, and Fox nodded again. “All right, I’ll see if I can find an ice pack for Melvin and I’ll call Skinner to pick the boys up.” 

~ ~ ~

“I’m not going.” Fox said, his arms crossed and a dark look on his young face. “I won’t go.” 

“Fox, Dana is going to her therapist’s appointment. You are not going to stay here by yourself, and Skinner already has to take Johnny and Ringo with Melvin to the doctor’s, so you can’t go with him either. I’m sorry, but you have to come with us.” Maggie said, sighing and handing him his sweatshirt. 

“Why don’t you want to go? The doc is nice, I like her.” Dana asked, her eyes bright and curious. 

“Why do you call her doc?” Fox asked instead of answering, curious despite his mood. 

“She’s a doctor. An’ a therapist. Her name is really Doctor Yew. But she lets me call her doc because I forget the rest sometimes.”

“I don’t like therapists.” Fox said, and Dana kicked him. 

“It’s mean to say you don’t like someone because of who they are. Like, you can’t not like all girls, or all different colored people, because you don’t really know them,” she said, the words sounding practiced even to Fox’s inexperienced ears. 

“Who told you that?” he asked. 

“Books.” Dana answered, with a serious look. 

“Anyways, going to therapy is useless. They just send broken kids there to get rid of them.” he said, twisting away from her sincere face. 

“That’s not true, Fox. In fact-” Maggie started, but Dana interrupted her. 

“Going to therapy is fun! Usually, anyway. Plus the doctor is really smart, and has good tricks to deal with when your brain is darker.” 

Maggie herded them out the door as they bickered, and belted them into the car. Dr. Yew’s office was nearby, and a short time later, they were seated in the play room outside. Dana picked up a book, flipping open to a leaf marking page 145, and started reading where she’d left off last week. Fox glanced around self-consciously before picking up a fiddle cube and clicking away at it with fascination. 

“Scully?” a man’s voice called, and Dana put the leaf back in the book, tucking it under the others on the table. Fox startled and dropped the cube. 

“Let’s go, kids.” Maggie said, standing and shooing both children in the direction that the nurse pointed. He walked them back to a room with two couches and an easy chair, with a big window. Fox glanced around, looking for something, although he wasn’t sure what. There were no diplomas on the walls, which were a soft shade of periwinkle. Light, drifting clouds were painted across the wall behind the desk, or else the shadow of a tree was blocking some of the sunlight from the wide window, Fox wasn’t sure which. A short, slim woman stood up from the chair, holding her arms open. Dana rushed forwards, hugging her tightly around her waist and knocking her back a step. Fox slipped behind Maggie, unconsciously. 

“Nice to see you again, Dana.” the doctor said with a smile, when Dana released her. “Who’s your friend, over there? Does he want to introduce himself?”

“I’m Fox.” he said, keeping his voice terse to warn the doctor off. She smiled at him anyway. 

“Hello, Fox.” She offered a hand, and he reluctantly stepped forwards and shook it. Her hands were rougher than he expected, calloused on the palms. “I’m Doctor Mei Yew. You can call me Mei, or Doc, or whatever you want to.” 

“Hello.” he said, warily. “Nice to meet you.” 

“You too,” she said, and then sat on the couch. She patted the seat next to her, and Dana scrambled up onto the couch. 

“How’s it going, Dana?” 

“It’s okay. I haven’t had any sticker days since last week!” Dana said, holding up a tiny calendar with pride.

“That’s very good! Does that make you feel better, when you don’t have sticker days?” Yew asked, and Dana answered. Fox thought back, trying to remember what sticker days were. He’d heard about them a couple times over the past few weeks. As far as he could tell, sticker days were the days when Dana stayed in her room or hid in the blanket fort. His thoughts drifted until he heard his name. 

“Fox, did you have something you wanted to talk to me about?” Doctor Yew said, softly. He was sitting on the couch across from her, but Maggie and Dana were walking out. He almost stood up, but he could feel the unspoken words like a pit in his stomach. She looked trustworthy, he decided, and he liked how she’d talked when she’d talked to Dana. Even without him hearing the individual words, she’d sounded calming. 

“My sister is missing,” he blurted. Dana gasped, and Maggie whispered something to her. She covered her mouth with both hands, lowered them to whisper “sorry” at Fox, and was led out by Maggie towards the waiting room. 

“I’m so sorry,” Doctor Yew said, and Fox laughed harshly. 

“Sorry she gasped, or sorry my sister is missing?” 

“Both.” The doctor answered, her brow furrowed. “Would you like to sit down?” Fox realized with a start that he was standing, his legs shaking, and he sat down with a thump. “Would you like to talk about what happened?” 

“No.” Fox said, sharply. “You’d think I was crazy.” The doctor smiled, and shook her head. 

“I don’t think you’re crazy, Fox,” she said, and waited. 

“I see it when I go to sleep.” Fox said, without any intention of doing so. “I don’t sleep very well,” he added, looking back at the closed door with unease. 

“Maggie tells me that sometimes you get into fights with the other boys, the ones that were found with you in Colorado.” she prompted, softly. 

“I hit Melvin today, but he didn’t hit me back.” Fox said, his eyes filling with sudden hot tears. He brushed angrily at them. “He deserved it, anyway.” 

“What did he do?” 

“He talked about aliens abducting people.” Fox said, bitterly. 

“I can see why that would be upsetting.” 

“No, you don’t.” Fox snapped, but she didn’t flinch and he subsided a little.

“Okay. Would you like to explain it to me?” 

“My sister was taken by aliens,” Fox said, his voice suddenly lower. “I saw them take her. I was right there but I couldn’t stop them.” 

“So you stopped Melvin?” 

“That… I guess. Something like that.” Fox said, flushing. “It sounds stupid when you say it like that.”

“Not at all. I think it makes perfect sense. When something happens that we can’t control, we try to change the things that we can control.” Doc Yew said, nodding as she spoke. 

“Are you agreeing with yourself?” Fox asked, and she stopped nodding with a wide-eyed look down at herself. 

“I suppose I am. How odd,” she answered, laughing. Fox laughed too, then sniffled. She didn’t seem to notice. “Fox, you’re a very observant young man. I’d like to ask you some questions, if you don’t mind. They’re very important.” 

“Okay.” Fox said, sitting up a little straighter. “Go ahead.” 

“Has Dana ever told you about feeling dark, or sad, or trapped?” she asked, and his stomach dropped. 

“No… not really.” he said, his tone worried. 

“Has she ever told you about wanting to hurt herself, or talked about death and dying with you?” Now Fox was pale. 

“No, nothing like that.” He paused, shook his head. “I mean, this one time really late at night she asked me if I believed in Heaven. Is that what you mean?” 

“Sort of. What did you say?” 

“I went outside onto the porch and pointed at a star, and told her that the light from that star could be older than the star itself, that the star could have died but that the light keeps on going through space. I told her that’s what I thought of as Heaven.” 

“That’s very poetic.” The doctor said, smiling. “Is it alright if I touch your arm, Fox?” Fox looked at his arm in surprise. 

“Yeah?” The doctor laid her hand on his arm and patted it gently. 

“I think Dana really looks up to you, Fox. She likes you very much.” Fox blushed, and didn’t even notice the doctor taking her hand back from his arm and leaning back into the couch. 

“You think so? What did she say about me?” he stammered. The doctor laughed again.

“I can’t tell you. Patient confidentiality. Which means that unless I’m concerned a person is going to hurt themselves, or others, I can’t tell other people what they say in here.” The doctor explained. Fox nodded. 

“Like keeping your friends’ secrets.” He said, with a glance out of the window. 

“Sort of like that. Just like how lots of people, grown-ups and adults both, break promises about keeping secrets if they’re worried someone will get hurt.” 

“I think that’s good.” Fox said, staring now at his feet. 

“Me too.” They sat there in silence for a moment. 

“I think Melvin and the other boys ran away from home.” Fox said, suddenly. “Sometimes I worry about that. I worry that their parents think they’re all missing like my sister and that they’re worrying about them. I guess that’s like worrying that it’ll hurt someone.”

“That’s good to know. I think you’re very kind to be worried about their parents like that, but remember that not all families are good to their children like Maggie is with you.” The doctor said. “From what Maggie tells me, Melvin is almost an adult, and they all live with a legal guardian. That means that their parents know that they’re safe, but they doesn’t have to go back to them if they don’t want to.” Fox nodded, slowly. 

“Can I come back and talk to you next week, too?” he asked, after a long pause. 

“Of course, Fox. Whenever you want.” she handed him a card with a phone number and a name on it. “If you’re ever feeling very bad, or you want someone to talk to, feel free to call me. Call me anytime, anytime at all.” Fox nodded, said thanks and goodbyes, and walked out of the office. The nurse helped him find the playroom again, and Dana jumped up when he walked in.

“I’m sorry I acted so surprised I just didn’t know about that and I still want to be your friend even if you’re mad at me and that’s okay if you’re mad and-” she gushed. 

“Dana, it’s okay.” Fox said, ignoring the warm feeling in his stomach. Everybody here cared  _ so much _ . “I’m not mad. I was just embarrassed, but I’m okay now.”

“The doc is nice, right?” Dana said, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the door. “My mom said she’d get us ice cream for being good today.” 

“I’m good every day,” Fox said, and Maggie ducked her head, grinning.

“I’m not!” Dana said, cheerfully, and they headed off to the nearest ice cream shop with a drive through. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for therapy, childhood trauma, kidnappings, running away from home, suicidal thoughts, depression, anxiety, bad home life, and general teen violence and unhappiness.


	5. Demons Run When A Good Man Goes To War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cult tensions arise around William, with most of the adults who normally watch out for trouble distracted by the new discovery of the X-Files.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings at the end

            There were whispered conversations behind closed doors, files hastily tucked away, tears swiped out of eyes unobtrusively. Fox worried they were fighting over something. Dana and Johnny refused to notice. Ringo noticed but refused to comment. Melvin, a little too used to unreliable adults, packed a bag. They met in the blanket fort again, Fox staring determinedly at his shoes as they walked past the couch.

            “All right.” Melvin said, once they’d all squeezed in. Anxious and over-tired from an especially exhaustive set of tests, the kids were sitting apart, not sprawled over each other, and the fort wasn’t designed for this behavior. “Meeting number five of the… okay, guys, we really need to name ourselves.”

            “I liked The Investigators.” Johnny complained.

            “That’s a stupid name.” Dana grumbled, rubbing the bandage around her arm. They’d been taking blood samples more often, and it make them all grumpier. “It sounds like we’re mean.”

            “We need something that captures our strengths, and makes us sound scary.” Fox decided. “Like, the Howling Wolves.”

            “That sounds like a school mascot.” Melvin pointed out irritably. “Try again.”

            “The Lone Gunmen.” Ringo said, without changing expression or sitting up. There was a long moment of silence.

            “Wow.” Johnny said, finally.

            “I like it.” Fox said, reluctantly.

            “Wish I’d thought of it.” Melvin added. The boys turned and looked at Dana.

            “You still sound kind of mean.” Dana said, and then smiled. “But we are kind of mean. I like it.”

            “All right, The Lone Gunmen it is.” Melvin said. “Where’d you get that name from, Ringo? Did you just come up with it?”

            “No, I found a file in the FBI mainframe called that,” he admitted. “I just liked how it sounded.”

            “Fair enough. Alright, the fifth meeting of the Lone Gunmen. Dana, progress report on personnel.”

            “Everyone has been to all of their therapy and classes and eaten all of their meals, except two… gunmen… have been hiding their spinach in their napkins and throwing it away.”

            “Which two?” Johnny asked, sounding scandalized.

            “Fox and Maggie.” Scully reported proudly. Melvin gave Fox an amused look, and the teen shot him a half-hearted eye-roll back.

            “Okay, so everyone’s functional. Next on the agenda: the files. Did everyone read their assignment?” Melvin asked, and there was a round of nods. “Okay, let’s summarize.”

            “There was a worm in a sewer that eats people.” Dana said solemnly.

            “There was a bowl that can raise the dead.” Johnny said, excitedly. “Only it got complicated and I didn’t understand the ending.”

            “Bug-man.” Ringo said simply, tossing his file into the growing pile in the middle of the circle.

            “An alien that can change shape and has green blood looked like people and snuck around killing them.” Fox said, and there was a moment of terse silence as the younger kids tried to gauge his reaction. His fight with Melvin had left the younger children worried by the mention of aliens and had left Melvin with an impressive black eye, which although faded was still clearly visible.

            “All right.” Melvin said, taking the offered folder and adding it to the pile. “We only have one more round of files to get through before we’re done with the files I managed to grab. Next up: Does anyone know what the adults have been so squirrelly about?”

            “Kids!” Skinner’s voice came echoing through the house, sharp and worried.

            “Here!” Johnny called, and Melvin shot him a dark look as he tucked the folders back under the couch.

            “Narc,” he muttered under his breath, but Johnny was already clambering out of the fort. Skinner picked him up and tucked him against his side, striding across the room and pulling the blanket roof off of the fort.

            “What’s wrong?” Dana asked, looking up at the fear in Skinner’s face.

            “They’re coming,” he said, bluntly. “We need to leave, now.” He set Johnny down next to the others. Melvin stood and ran upstairs, and Skinner turned to shout after him. By the time he’d gotten to the base of the stairs, though, Melvin was running back down the stairs, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

            “Let’s go, G-man,” he said, stepping around Skinner and grabbing Johnny and Ringo’s hands. Mulder grabbed Dana’s hand, and Skinner led them out through the house’s back door, pointing them towards a car with tinted windows.

            “Maggie’s in that car,” he said. “Go to her. She’s with some agents that we know we can trust. I’m going to go talk some sense into these agents who’re coming into this house.” He turned and strode back towards the house, anger showing in the lines of how he held himself. The kids watched him go for a moment, but at Melvin and Fox’s urging, they rushed to the car and clambered into the backseat. Monica was there, and she directed the kids to the seats, closing the door behind Melvin and fastening everyone’s seatbelts. A baby’s car seat was strapped into one of the chairs, and she glanced at it every few seconds. They waited for a moment, unsure, and then the sound of a gunshot echoed down to the street from the house.

            “Go!” Maggie yelled from the front seat, and Doggett peeled out. The kids all turned to Monica, except Melvin, who was staring out of the van’s windows, pale as a sheet. There was sudden chaos as all of the younger kids started to ask questions at once.

            “What was that?”

            “Where are we going?”

            “Is Walter okay?”

            “Who are they?”

“Children.” Monica made a shushing gesture, and the questions halted temporarily. “That was a confrontation with some FBI agents following orders from some bad men. We are going somewhere safe. “

            “This is our fault.” Melvin said, and Monica reached across the van to put her arm on his knee.

            “Honey, this is not your fault.”

            “It is. They came for the files, didn’t they, they came to take them away.” Monica’s brow furrowed.

            “What files?” she asked, looked perplexed. Wordlessly, Melvin tugged a sheaf of folders out of his duffel bag and handed them to her. She flipped through, her eyebrows raising higher by the instant. “Where did you get these?” she asked, finally. Melvin was silent.

            “Walter said she can be trusted,” Johnny pointed out.

            “I think she’s right. If this is really this big, we’ll need help.” Fox chimed in. Melvin hesitated, looking around the group. Ringo and Dana nodded at him.

            “I stole them. From an office in the FBI,” he said, and somewhat defensively added “Ringo and Johnny helped me.”

            “That’s… okay, we’ll need to talk about this later, but that’s not why we’re being pursued. Some bad people are looking for children they think are related to a specific X-File.”

            “X-file?” Ringo asked. “I’ve found stuff talking about those in the mainframe. What are they?” Monica held up the folders Melvin had given her.

            “These are X-files.” Monica said, and then the sound of two more gunshots and shattering glass filled the car. There was a screech of tires, and the van skidded off of the road, slamming into a pole with a bone-jarring thud.

~ ~ ~

            “Wake up. Miss Monica, wake up, please.” Johnny said, shaking Monica gently. He stared around the ca at everyone else. “Anybody? Why are you sleeping?” he cried, and when there was no response except a soft crying he followed the noise to the baby carrier still strapped into the seat. There was a baby inside, and he gently brushed its hair down over its forehead, using only one finger because his mom told him that babies were fragile.  He risked another glance around the car, but it made his stomach hurt. Ringo was slumped against his seatbelt, with a big nasty-looking bruise on his cheek. Fox and Dana were both starting to move again, with groans and lots of rubbing of their shoulders. Melvin was slumped to one side, his head bleeding from a long cut below his hairline. A smear of his blood was along the van wall above his slumped form. They were all moving, though, and starting to wake up, so Johnny felt some of the bad feeling in his stomach starting to fade. Then the van door slid open, and a woman leaned in.

            “Help us!” Johnny said, right away, and added “Please.” as soon as he thought of it. The lady climbed into the car, but instead of going to look at Ringo or Melvin or Fox or Dana she headed towards him.

            “I’m okay.” he protested, and pointed at the others. “Help them, please?” She ignored him, reaching him and pushing him aside in order to unclip the baby’s car seat. She took it with her towards the door, and Johnny didn’t like it.

            “Hey!” he said, and the woman lifted her coat, showing him the gun in her belt. Johnny went quiet, and instead stared after her as she climbed out of the van and vanished. Then there was a shout, and a thud, and then Skinner climbed into the van, holding the baby carefully. He nodded at Johnny, briefly crouched over Melvin, checked Ringo’s eyes, and headed towards Monica.

            “Johnny, can you help the others out of the van?” he asked, putting his fingers on Monica’s neck, sighing with relief, and starting to unbuckle her. “An ambulance is on its way, but I don’t want anyone staying in the car. It might be dangerous.”

            “I can do that.” Johnny said, and moved to help Dana.

~ ~ ~

            “So… what happened?” Melvin said, for the fifth time. Skinner stood stiffly, tense, and Maggie put a calming hand on his arm. “Did you get shot?”

            “What happened to the bad FBI men?” Ringo chimed in. “Did anyone notice that we took the X-Files?”

            “How did you find us?” Johnny asked, staring in awe at the AD.

            “Was this all a conspiracy?” Fox asked, wide-eyed. “Is it run by aliens?”

            “Was this the smoking man again?” Dana asked. There was a moment of quiet while everyone tried to think of more questions.

            “So… they were always like this?” Skinner asked Maggie, in the blissful (if brief) silence.

            “If you’re speaking of their unfailing ability to get into trouble and escape mostly unscathed,” she gestured at the bandaged, but rambunctious children, “The answer is yes. If you’re referring to their insatiable curiosity and tendency to jump to ridiculous conclusions, the answer is also probably yes.”  Skinner put his head in his hands.

            “It’s your turn to deal with them, right?” he asked. Maggie laughed, and lightly shoved him forwards.

            “I wouldn’t dream of speaking on behalf of the FBI.” She said, and Skinner groaned, stepping forwards and facing the kids. Just as he drew in a breath to speak, Dana suddenly looked confused.

            “Wait, who’s baby was that?” Skinner stopped, threw a pleading look at Maggie, and then met Dana’s eyes.

            “I’ll tell you when you’re older,” he said, and began the unenviable task of debriefing The Lone Gunmen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for children in dangerous situations, children harmed, children being distrustful of adults, hints at previous child neglect, car crashes.


	6. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The repercussions.

            The room was dark and quiet, with blinds pulled over the window letting in just a few stripes of dim bluish twilight. Five figures, wrapped in sleeping bags and yet still sprawled underneath a set of Star Wars sheets, started to move.

“Oh god,” Frohike groaned, rolling over. He rolled into Langley, who grumbled and smacked at his shoulders. “I have the hangover to end all hangovers.”

            “You do?” Langley managed. “I feel like I’ve been staring at a computer screen nonstop for weeks. Months, maybe.”

            “Everyone okay?” Byers said, his voice sounding strained. There was a chorus of mumbled yesses. Four, to be exact. “Um. Who else is here?”

            “Mulder,” came a groan. “And Scully. We’re over by the window.” Frohike turned to look, then flinched back from the movement with a muffled curse.

            “Wakey wakey,” came a dry voice from the doorway, just before the door was thrown open to admit a flood of light. Skinner stood, a silhouette against the warm yellow light now filling the room. Langley retreated, pulling his head into his sleeping bag. The rest of the group started to sit up.

            “Sir?” Scully asked, her voice thick. “What… what happened?”

            “I told you, Dana.” Skinner said, his voice unapologetic. “I warned you all what would happen. But you ignored all of my advice.”

            “What-“

            “I told you that if you all stayed up that all night and then all of the next day watching Doctor Who you would all feel like crap for your physicals tonight, and that Maggie and I wouldn’t allow sleepovers on Wednesdays anymore.” He regarded the five adults, all gradually starting to notice the empty soda bottles, copies of X-Files, and board games strewn around the floor by the television, as well as their own current state of dress in nerdy pajamas and sleeping bags. “I guess that won’t really be a major concern now, though.”

            “Sir, I think-“ Fox started, and Skinner shot him a look.

            “Don’t interrupt me when I’m talking, Fox,” he snapped, and Fox shut his mouth with an audible click.

            “So, I think I’m being quite reasonable when I ground you all for a week," he said, with a contemplative expression. “Also, Scully, before you start worrying, William is fine, he was with me, Reyes, or your mother the whole time.”

            “Wait, sir? You’re grounding us?” Fox said, looking utterly confused.

            “The whole time?” Scully said. “The whole time that what?”

            “It’ll come back to you,” Skinner said, and turned to leave. No one else moved, and he turned back with a sigh.

            “Well? C’mon. Maggie made spaghetti.” The Lone Gunmen (all five of them) got to their feet and filed out of the room, past Skinner. He regarded the messy room for a long moment with a faintly sad smile, and then shut the door, his footsteps echoing down the hallway towards the kitchen.

         


End file.
